


The Fault in Our Stories

by SELIchan



Category: The Fault in Our Stars - John Green
Genre: AU, Gen, Other, Read it?, SO, but i like this one, but not really, idk - Freeform, kind of an AU, this is kind of weird
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2015-11-12
Packaged: 2018-04-27 10:45:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5045308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SELIchan/pseuds/SELIchan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is basically TFIOS, but from outsider perspectives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hana Inakawa Schmidt

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! This is kind of a new thing for me (writing fic of TFIOS) especially since I didn't like the book all that much. Basically the plot is that a bunch of people who knew Hazel and Gus collaborated on making a blog.

The Fault in Our Stories- The Story of Hazel and Augustus from an Outsider’s Perspective

Part 1/3

Hana Inakawa Schmidt

The first thing I thought when I set eyes on Augustus Waters was something along the lines of ‘ _if that isn’t the most attractive person on Earth-._ ’ I don’t know how I would have finished that sentence because at that moment, he opened his mouth and revealed himself to be friends with Isaac, whom I sort of despise. Good thing, too, since he turned out to be the most pretentious asshole to ever walk the Earth. Honestly, the whole bunch of them: Hazel, Isaac and Augustus- they’re all really, _really_ annoying people.

I first met Isaac at one of the cancer support meetings. Or, not really cancer, but life-threatening-illness support meetings. I have a form of hydrocephalus. He, for the most part, looked disease-free (not counting the leg), but that didn’t say a lot. If I weren’t in a wheelchair, I too would look able. I had learned not to judge based on appearances early.

But Isaac seemed approachable at first. He seemed bored. Just like the rest of us. Really, until Hazel showed up, he _was_ just one of us. Bored, terminally ill, and quiet.

And then Hazel Grace Lancaster shows up. The rest of us, we’re dressed in sweats, a hoodie, whatever’s comfortable. No judgements here- why not be comfortable, if we may or may not die at any given time? She shows up in, like, _clothing_. An outfit with matching colors. _Makeup._ So, okay. She dresses a little too nice, but, okay. She came from college (or so she said). Good for her! Of course she would want to look nice for classes.

In her autobiography (honestly, it’s a _how-I-met-Augustus-ography_ , to be more honest) _The Fault in Our Stars_ she talks a lot about how the preacher was boring as hell.

I would like to take a moment to confirm this.

I would also like to take a moment to say that I’m an atheist so the only reason I’m even attending the support group meetings is so I won’t die of embarrassment every time either stares, or averts their eyes, or talks to my mother instead of me, etc. Because here, we understood, even if we didn’t talk to each other, that we were _people_.

And then the eye-rolling and the sighs start.

I don’t know who it was that initiated it, but my bet is that it was Hazel. Every time the preacher would say something ridiculous, or talk about his own struggles with cancer (god, I hate that. Disease isn’t a battle. You just sit there and take it- there isn’t a lot you _do_. Just to clear it up) Hazel would roll her eyes. Or sigh. Loudly.

In her book, she describes it as being a discreet code or whatever- “sigh ever so slightly”.

That’s a lie. Every time they would roll their eyes at each other, I felt like throwing up. More than I usually do, I mean. Ever since a surgery I had when I was 12, I’ve only been able to go a couple days without vomiting. Yay.

I swear, the preacher guy knew. Hell, I bet they could hear their secret little sighs in the Arctic. The penguins probably were sick of Hazel Grace Lancaster. One has to sigh pretty loudly to be heard from the other side of the circle, after all.

Hazel was, by the way, extremely pretty. Despite hamster-cheeks, or however she said it, she was very attractive. She had a good figure and if she wasn’t prone to death, she would be the sort of person I would date. That would be based solely on appearance. I would never go out with anyone with that sort of personality. _Jesus_.

And then Isaac’s girlfriend, Monique, or whatever-her-name-is would show up and they would eat each other’s faces off while Hazel would kind of glare at them. She had no need to be so judgmental. But being Hazel, she was.

I think she was jealous of able people. Jealous that they could run, and jump, and join sports teams or debate teams or clubs and flirt and do whatever they wanted while she would have sit out on the bleachers making sure she didn’t drown herself in fluid. So am I. Who isn’t?

But Hazel was a very selfish person, and she gave -1 thoughts about how literally everyone in the same room felt the same way. Honestly, I think she looked down on us for reminding her that she, too, was disabled.

So I sort of felt sorry for her, in a way.


	2. Hana Inakawa Schmidt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of Hana's perspective

The Fault in Our Stories- The Story of Hazel and Augustus from an Outsider’s Perspective  
Part 2/3  
Hana Inakawa Schmidt  
Until Augustus showed up, it was bearable. Just.  
Sure, Hazel and Isaac were annoying as hell. And Monica was also really annoying. Every time she would pick Isaac up, she would kind of sift her eyes around the rest of us. Except for Hazel- she would kind of stare at Hazel judgmentally. I don’t know if it was in a I’ll-kill-you-if-you-lay-a-finger-on-my-boyfriend way or if it was a I-don’t-get-why-Isaac-is-friends-with-you way.   
We had introductions first. As Hazel said, it was name, age, diagnosis, how we feels. Hana, 15, hydrocephalus, nauseous. At which time Patrick would always point me to the garbage can. At which time I would take out one of my many barf bags that were conveniently stuffed in my pocket.  
The preacher would talk about his past experiences with cancer and God (I didn’t really pay attention, but it was the same every week) and then we would discuss.  
Scratch the part I said about quiet.   
We would talk. Loudly. About whatever we liked. Sometimes it would be disease or whatever. I would usually talk to Stephanie about Attack on Titan, or Madoka Magica or Firefly or any interesting show, really. I started reading the Game of Thrones series, so I was probably trying to convince her to read that. That was the only time where Hazel was quiet. She would kind of…sit there. And stare at us. Quite disapprovingly, too, to be honest. What a bitch.   
And then we would share something. Our fears. I doubt Hazel was paying attention to the not-very-tightly-kept agenda, since all she noticed was when Patrick asked Augustus his fears. But everyone said stuff.   
Heights.      
Insects.  
Death.  
Reaching Stage II of cancer.  
The dark.  
Lying flat on my back, in my case. I get really, really dizzy.  
And then Augustus opened his mouth.   
Oblivion.   
If I weren’t in a wheelchair, I would have slapped him upside the head. What a pretentious asshole.   
The puns he made about Isaac’s blindness were funny- most people don’t want to joke about illness because oh, dear, did I offend you? Shut up, already. And then when we joke about it, they act all shocked, like how could you joke about a thing like that? Honestly, I’m more concerned about the people who think that rape jokes, or period jokes or misogynistic jokes are funny.  
If that was the end of it, I could have grit my teeth and curled my hands into fists and gone without trying to punch him, but no, Hazel had to open her mouth.  
A note: prior to Augustus, she never opened her mouth. Not once. Except for the introductions.  
Hazel made this big, long speech about the inevitability of entropy or some shit like that. It was quite interesting, to be honest, and a point that I wanted to make. I couldn’t have phrased it like that, though. And that wasn’t too bad. What was bad was how she was staring at Augustus the whole time and he was making cow eyes right back. Gag me.   
It was kind of insulting, almost, that I wasn’t in her book. But it was understandable. I didn’t talk to her, she didn’t talk to me. She forgot about me. So it was perfectly reasonable. It just hurt a little. The one piece of representation disabled people get and she makes it a love story.  
“What’s your name?” he had asked. At that point she should have thought it out. We had just done introductions. Anyone who asks one’s name right after introductions is not someone worth paying attention to.  
“Hazel,” she had replied. They were staring at each other. Kill me.  
“No, your full name.” A point I would like to make: why the fuck would you ask this?    
My name is Hana Inakawa Schmidt and I guarantee that if it were me up there talking about oblivion instead of Hazel Grace Lancaster, it would have 100% turned out differently. My middle name is my mother’s last name. Sure, that’s not how it usually works. He probably would have played along for the rest of the meeting and that would be it. But since it was Hazel, Hazel Grace Lancaster, he fell in love with her. At that point Hazel giggled- honest-to-god giggled when he asked that. My god.  
“Hazel Grace Lancaster.”  
Ugh.  
See, that only works with white people.  
And even if I did have a real middle name. Schmidt just doesn’t have the same ring as Lancaster. So maybe I’m a little jealous.  
I mean, I’ve always been envious of other people. They had better hair, better balance (see, that’s why I’m in a wheelchair. Not that I can’t walk but because whenever I do walk, I look drunk and I can’t make it very far without tipping over), better friends in larger quantities… If you wanted to find a saying to illustrate my life, it would be that the grass is always greener on the other side.

  
So sue me.  
 


End file.
